


What If?

by theproletariatdontdeservecake



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Action/Adventure, All over the damn multiverse, Amonkhet, Blood and Violence, Dancing, Dominaria, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I bet the food's overpriced at Milena's, I should have a lot of tags. this is going to be a long story., Illusions, Implied Sexual Content, Is it "kaladeshian" or "kaladeshi?", Ixalan, Kaladesh, Ravnica, Relationship(s), Time Shenanigans, Violence, Wish Fulfillment, Zombies, at least i'd like to think so, fun with tags brought to you by (your ad could be HERE), how could i forget to tag for sexual content, how does anyone actually manage tags when authors can type anything they want, is it still "implied" if you only watch the foreplay?, it's not all romance!, ixalan-style flashbacks, of the well-written sort, that's an even cooler sounding tag, zombie illusions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:53:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14853143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theproletariatdontdeservecake/pseuds/theproletariatdontdeservecake
Summary: When an experiment goes wrong, Liliana wakes up in a timestream where she and Jace have had a child. When she doesn't believe it's real, Jace decides to prove it to her by showing her the memories of how they ended up together.Started out as several different shorter fics until it eventually became what it is: a sort of interconnected anthology of stories, some of which will be cheesy, most of which can be read on their own, and all of which are blatant wish fulfillment.NOTE: as of 29 June 2018, this is on indefinite hiatus while I fix a glaring inconsistency in the 2nd half of the story. I've also deleted Ch.7 for the same reason. Thanks for pointing it out, @Vi Are The Champions (and whatever other guest tags you might be using. Just create an account already, huh? hahaha)





	1. On a Useless Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liliana's search for Jace leads her to an island she can't seem to leave.

Jace was dead.

That was what Liliana decided as she stood on the tiny island. Nothing but sand and rock here, as far as her shades had told her. Sand, rock, and a cloak that had washed up on the shore, its patterns faded and torn but unmistakable when she’d held it up—it was his.

Foolish boy.

She didn’t wonder how he died. She refused. She'd wasted enough time on sentiment—on that _boy._  And what had it brought her? Nothing but grief and pain and derailed plans. An island in the middle of nowhere that she couldn’t seem to planeswalk out of, no matter how many times she’d tried. Friends who were probably, inconveniently dead too.

They’d been nothing but trouble. She told herself she was glad to be rid of them and silenced the part of her that protested. Things would be easier now that they were dead—now that he was dead. Fewer distractions.

Liliana looked around. The drizzle that had started before she arrived had since turned into a steady downpour. Her undead servants stood as mindless as ever, rain dripping down their rotting bones as they held a tent of what remained of their clothes over her head—a pitiful shelter over a woman who refused to pity herself. She would find a way off the island if she had to kill everything on it and everything in the ocean around it. This wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in so desperate a situation and it probably wouldn’t be the last. She’d gotten through them all, friends or no.

She raised arms and sent her summons into the ocean.

At first nothing happened, then a fish jumped out of the water and landed on the beach. Its eyes were milky and its withered body was practically a skeleton. Another one joined it on the sand as the sea flowed in, this one with a fresh bite mark that exposed its spines. Yet another leaped out of the water to land beside it. Then another. And another.

The tide ebbed to reveal a human corpse. A mess of ropes and what appeared to be sail canvas were tangled around its rotting flesh. It pulled itself to its feet and began dragging itself, rigging and all, towards the beach. Another drowned sailor followed close behind, staggering one-armed out of the surf.

The sea around the island grew turbulent and Liliana smiled as more dead answered her call.

 _Friends_ she thought, as she channeled even more mana into her spell. The word seemed strange to her, even now. She’d been alive long enough to know that life was a game of chess. There were only queens and pawns. Friends were just people—and people were a means to an end.

A drop of rain fell on her cheek. She looked to the source and found that her makeshift roof was uneven. One of her zombies had been a bent old man in life. He was barely tall enough to hold his end of the tent over her head and the odd droplet would run down to his end and off his outstretched arm.

She looked at him, eyebrow raised in annoyance, and he straightened with a sickening crunch as his spine rearranged itself.

Queens and pawns. She knew which she’d rather be.

Liliana could already imagine an annoyed Jace correcting her. _There are other pieces, you know._ The thought made her smile until a dull ache in her chest dampened the amusement.

She cursed.

 _There you go, Jace,_ she thought. _Sad you’re gone, just like I promised._

She lowered herself onto the sand, exhausted from the effort of her spell.

The zombies she'd summoned out of the sea were congregating, clumping together into a putrefying mass of undeath that she willed into the form of a raft. It was slow work—the dead would only move as quickly as their failing sinews allowed—but already she could see it taking shape.

She decided she'd have time to rest before they finished.  

The rain intensified but her shelter held and she looked again at Jace's cloak, lying on the sand at her feet.  _He did love his cloaks_ , she remembered fondly. She picked it up and pulled it around her shoulders tightly (she told herself it was for the wind). It smelled like saltwater and damp and nothing like Jace, she thought, as the sound of the rain drifted her off to sleep.


	2. Familiar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liliana wakes up in a strange place and meets an old friend.

“She’s waking up.”

Liliana awoke to voices and opened her eyes to find Jace standing at the foot of her bed. Next to him was a girl who was the spitting image of him. Same chin, same nose. She even stared with the same intense curiosity as Jace. The only difference was the girl's black hair, which she wore in a long unruly braid that added an air of impatience to her look.

“Go tell your mother,” Jace told the girl.

“Yes, father.”

The brief joy Liliana had felt at seeing Jace alive disappeared in a twinge of confusion and unexpected jealousy. Had that girl really called Jace, _father? Jace?_

She looked at him and realized how much older he was than when she'd last seen him. He'd definitely aged—several years, she judged—enough for the barest hint of crow’s feet to begin to show. Enough for the faintest of greys to sneak into his hair. Enough that it made sense that he’d have a daughter that age.

_How long have I been asleep?_

Her mind’s eye tried to imagine the girl’s mother. She was about to banish the thoughts when a voice interrupted in her head.

 _"How do you feel, Lili?"_ Jace asked telepathically as he sat down at the foot of her bed. He looked more guilty than he looked concerned.

 _"Like a sunny day,"_ she thought back sarcastically. She didn’t appreciate having someone intruding in her mind without asking, especially when there was no reason not to speak normally. Jace ought to know that by now.

“Where am I?” she demanded aloud.

“You don’t recognize it?” Jace asked with a bemused smile. “You’re home.”

The confusion must have shown on her face because he continued. “I’m sure you have questions but you’ve been sleeping for almost two days. I’m sure you’re hungry.” He gestured to a platter of fruit on the side table.

“Come downstairs when you’re done. I promise, we’ll answer all your questions.”

 

* * *

 

Liliana walked down the stairs with purpose. She’d been about to demand answers but seeing the fruit made her realize how hungry she’d been. Now that she'd eaten, someone owed her an explanation.

A guttural snarl resonated through the hall.

Curious, she followed the sound to where the hall opened into a courtyard where she found a dozen Jaces, eyes aglow, milling around a quad. In the middle of them stood a blindfolded girl—the one who’d called Jace “father” earlier. A mountain of a zombie lumbered among the Jaces as the girl’s head darted back and forth. As the girl’s head moved, so too did the corpse’s.

It was an exercise, Liliana realized. The zombie was meant to be the girl’s eyes.

The girl shook her head as if to clear her mind. She was having trouble concentrating.

Liliana knew the move. She’d seen Jace use it a hundred times. He’d attack his opponent’s mind while projecting several doppelgangers of himself. Only a telepath of no uncertain skill would be able to identify the real Jace—and even then, only if they could withstand the mental assault that would seem to be coming from several places at once.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snapped toward one of the Jaces and her goliath grabbed at it. The girl yelped in surprise as her familiar’s arms passed through the illusion, caught her on the back, and knocked her over.

The girl ripped off her blindfold in frustration. The zombie she’d been animating collapsed to the ground and all but one Jace disappeared.

The girl couldn’t have picked more wrongly. The real Jace had been on the other side of her the entire time.

Watching the girl fail was more satisfying than Liliana thought it would be.

“You enjoy making me look like a fool, don’t you?” the girl complained to Jace.

A cold feminine voice replied. “You make _yourself_ look like a fool. Your father just enjoys watching.”

The girl scowled, stood up, and began to replace her blindfold.

Jace put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Why don’t we take a break?” he said.

The girl took the blindfold off once more and stormed off.

Jace turned toward the woman who’d just spoken. “You’re too hard on her."

Liliana began to cross the courtyard. She couldn’t see the woman’s face from where she was standing but there was something unsettlingly familiar about the voice.

“You’ll regret being soft the next time she can’t summon the focus to ward off a kavu,” the woman admonished him.

“That happened _once,_ ” he replied. “And you know she’s mostly angry about being embarrassed in front of you, right?”

Liliana didn't have time for this. She’d been in similar couple-fights with Jace once upon a time. This was not something she wanted to have to sit through.

“Trouble in paradise?” she interrupted, holding her skirts to step over the corpse in the center of the room.

Then she finally saw the woman’s face and understood why the voice had been so familiar.

It was her own.

The woman on the dais could have been her twin. They both looked as old as they did on the day Kothophed gave them back their youth. Their eyes were the same shade of violet—the same color as the banners that hung on either side of high-backed chair she sat on like a throne. Even the way the other woman sat—exuding imperious boredom—was distinctly _Liliana._

She stared at her doppelganger and willed her face not to betray the shock and confusion she felt.

Her doppelganger stared back impassively.

Jace broke the awkward silence with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat. Then, looking to both of them, said “Liliana, meet Liliana."

The seated Liliana smirked.

It took a lot of willpower for Liliana to stay composed and not to stare at her double, whose amused expression looked almost pleased. It was a little unnerving.

She looked directly at Jace instead. “Explain.”

Jace motioned and a servant with a completely bandaged face appeared, stepped forward to set a chair down behind her, bowed, and left.

He took a deep breath.

“Alright. You may want to sit down for this, but…how much do you know about time magic?”

 

* * *

 

Liliana rubbed her temples and paced. There was a lot to process. Something about time streams and clockworking and a rift that they peered into from a different place in a different time to find her asleep on the beach.

She’d told them nothing about when and where she’d come from.

“So let me get this straight,” Liliana said. “You thought it was a good idea to dabble in ancient Tolarian time magic because you were given a few books and you acquired a few artifacts... and now I’m here, in this… _timestream_.”

“It wasn’t just Tolarian, but yes,” Jace nodded, looking a little glum. Liliana didn’t know if he felt badly that he’d accidentally brought her here or that his little time experiment had failed. She’d always thought time magic a fickle art that was more trouble than it was worth. Now she was convinced of it.

“…but we can send you back. Well, not me. The machine I built broke after I used it. Never been much of an artificer." The side of her doppelganger's mouth curled up slightly. "But like I said, Teferi is already on his—"

“This is the _same_ Teferi whose expertise led him to vanish an _entire kingdom_ and lose his spark, yes?”

“To be fair, that same expertise got him back his spark and should— _will_ get you back to your timeline… as soon as he gets here in the morning.”

“Wonderful.” Liliana sat back in the chair, crossed her arms, and scowled.

They sat in silence for a while and she stewed.

The other Liliana had said nothing since she’d arrived. She’d just sat in silence, smiling the infuriating smile of someone who knew something you didn’t.

Liliana closed her eyes and breathed deeply, then looked at her double. “So, in this timeline, _you_ ” she motioned to her seated self “and Cloak Boy the Master of Time over there have a daughter.”

“Vivian.” Jace answered her. Then, “Be nice, Lili.”

Liliana was about to snap at him before she realized that he hadn’t been speaking to her.

The other her laughed and turned to look at Jace, who gave a small shrug, and Liliana realized that they were having a telepathic conversation on their own. Rude, but that wasn't why it irked her.

“What is so funny?” she demanded.

The other Liliana replied. “I’m not sure how old you are, dear, but, do you perhaps remember a particular night on Ravnica? Just after fighting an Eldrazi titan on Innistrad?”

Liliana narrowed her eyes. She knew exactly what night her older self was referring to. She remembered well enough—how eager Jace had been, no matter how hard he’d tried to act cavalier. For a mind mage, he could be surprisingly easy to read. She, on the other hand, had been a little lonely and more than a little bored.

“Yes,” was all she said.

“What happened?”

 She frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Humor me. What happened that night?”

“Jace and I…" Liliana’s jaw tightened slightly then relaxed. "We spent the night together.”

The seated Liliana’s mouth curled into a smirk. She knew she was making her guest uncomfortable.

“ _After_ that.”

Liliana was losing patience again and the conversation was beginning to feel like she was being led by the nose.

“ _Nothing._ We went our separate ways in the morning.”

Knowing that she was being provoked didn’t make it any easier. It was especially infuriating that she had nothing to throw back. She knew nothing about the woman sitting across from her other than that, for some reason, _that_ Liliana had thought it best to settle down with this version of Jace.

“Ah,” her doppelganger said, looking pleased again.

Liliana resisted the urge to clench her fists. “Were you going somewhere with this?”

The other Liliana smiled. “We’ve made many mistakes over the centuries, you and I…” she spoke slowly, savoring her words.

 _Why does it sound like she’s gloating?_ Liliana thought incredulously.

“…but it seems _that_ mistake was yours alone.”

Liliana finally snapped. “And why would you presume to think I’d _ever_ think that was a mistake?”

Her infuriation grew as she glanced at Jace, who was looking at her with something that looked suspiciously like pity _. Pity!_

“Oh, my dear, sweet girl.” The seated woman laughed again and Liliana gritted her teeth. It was maddening, as she was sure the other Liliana intended.

“Look around. This estate is my home. I have a family. My contracts have been voided. And, as I’m sure you’d be interested to know...”

She reached into her skirts, where Liliana knew a secret pocket would be. The other Liliana turned it out with a flourish.

 “…I no longer carry the Veil.”

Liliana’s hand unconsciously went to the Chain Veil hidden in her own skirts and its voices began to whisper to her. She shut them out angrily and let her hand fall back to her side.

“Remind me, my dear,” the other Liliana continued, “where were you before we found you?”

Even though a thousand things swam through Liliana’s mind, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Does that answer your question?” The other Liliana sneered. “Or do you need me to elaborate further?”

She'd had enough. Liliana stood up so quickly that her chair scraped backwards on the stone floor, and she stormed off.

As she walked out of the courtyard and back down the hall, she realized (with a little more sadness than she thought she’d feel) that when she’d woken up, she no longer had Jace’s cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This image](https://pm1.narvii.com/6082/d367c3ba7d68a61bed574c7c82a9c8318da45bf7_hq.jpg) is a third of the reason I've written this.


	3. Just a Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liliana refuses to believe that any version of her would choose to settle down. Jace decides to prove her wrong.

It was only after Liliana had thrown Jace's apology in his face that she realized had little choice but to take him up on his offer to stay in one of the guestrooms until Teferi arrived. 

She'd let her pride and her emotions get the better of her and spent the entire night sulking. Her mood was not improved by the knowledge that _that_ Liliana had already found a way to rid herself of the Chain Veil.

She needed to find out how.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she considered the possibility of simply swallowing her pride and asking. As a last resort, perhaps. But she decided to put that off while waiting for Teferi. She would come up with a less humiliating way than to go hat in hand after having stormed off.

It irritated her that she’d been so affected but, settling down? Having a family? A house with uniformed servants? It was just so _domesticated,_ like a cat that had grown lazy and impotent with age. It disgusted her but at the same time it weighed on her chest. She’d done nothing over the last several years but scheme for her freedom. She’d betrayed allies. She’d hurt friends. And she would do it again if that was what was necessary. But if things had been different…

 _No_. She pushed the thoughts firmly out of her mind. Of all the emotions worth feeling, jealousy was decidedly not one of them. She hadn’t bargained, manipulated, and killed her way through several lifetimes and dozens of planes to play _house_. Her friends were dead; she saw them stay and fight. Jace was dead; the cloak was proof of that.

“Mother?”

The voice pulled Liliana out of her thoughts and she looked towards it to see Jace’s daughter, Vivian, standing at the doorway, holding a silver breakfast tray.

Liliana was struck again by how much the girl looked like her father and annoyance flashed on the older woman's face. “I’m not your mother,” she snapped.

“No…” Vivian replied, choosing her words carefully as she entered the room. “…but it would be strange to call you anything else.”

Liliana felt the immense curiosity behind the girl’s eyes, mixed with what she realized was apprehension. As much as Liliana looked like the girl’s mother, Vivian knew that she wasn’t. Which meant the girl was smart enough to know to be careful but not smart enough to stay away.

Liliana scoffed to herself. The girl truly was her father's daughter.

“Teferi’s here,” Vivian said pointedly as she set the tray down beside the untouched one a servant had brought the night before. “He says you can’t stay.”

Liliana felt herself losing her temper again. She wasn’t _choosing_ to stay. She hadn’t even chosen to come. The girl’s idiot father had brought her here against her will. And now the bumbling incompetent who’d taught him how was in charge of sending her back. She needed to figure out how to rid herself of the Veil and this girl was wasting her time.

“I’m sure your mother won’t want to keep _competition_ in her own home either,” Liliana said snidely as the girl turned to leave.

Vivian turned to look at her with a familiar, infuriating look of disinterest and shrugged. “Why keep a reminder of a mistake she never made?” she said, and walked out of the room.

To her annoyance, Liliana couldn’t think of a response fast enough. The girl might look like Jace but she definitely had something of her mother’s.

_"She admires you, you know."_

Liliana almost jumped as Jace’s voice spoke in her mind. She looked around the empty room and wondered how long he’d been…wherever he was.

 _"She doesn’t know me,"_ Liliana thought back dismissively.

Liliana hated having someone in her mind. It was one of the reasons she surrounded herself with zombies. The dead didn’t scheme. They didn’t manipulate. They didn’t pry into her mind or sneak around invisibly or admonish her. They didn’t go around doing stupid things like making her question herself or dying alone on useless islands in the middle of nowhere without even so much as a goodbye. The dead simply obeyed.

_"She admires you all the same; you’re her mother."_

“I’m not her _mother,”_ she growled. “She’s not _mine_. None of this is mine. A house, a family together, the cloying domesticity of it all, this is all very nice…for _you_. But I don’t see how _I_ could ever want this.”

“So, I don’t know what sort of mind trick you did to convince _that_ Liliana that all this was a good idea but this isn’t _me._ So, either she and I are less alike than you’d like to think, or _someone_ did _something_ to change her mind for her.”

Silence answered her. She didn’t know if she’d angered Jace or hurt his feelings. A little of both, she hoped. It felt good to be on this side of the mockery again. It felt like she was in control of something—however petty that something might be.

She scoffed at the silence for good measure. Haughty indifference came easily when she was in control of the situation but nothing had gone right since the island—since Amonkhet and their defeat at Bolas’ hands had thrown her plans into disarray. Everything had fallen apart and now nothing made sense. She was angry and unhappy and tired of feeling uncomfortable but, mostly, she was just tired. And the last thing she needed was whatever mind trip this was.

She almost missed the useless island. At least there, the only thoughts in her mind were her own.

“Fine,” Jace said aloud, as he entered through the doorway. It was satisfying to see the annoyance in his voice reflected in his expression. “I’ll prove it to you.”

His eyes glowed blue and before Liliana could protest, her vision swirled and she found herself in an entirely different room—a dusty windowsill, cracked walls, and old furniture—one of the antechambers of her house on Ravnica.

A young Jace sat across from her doppelganger by the fire.

“What in nine hells is this?!” Liliana demanded.

Jace didn’t even look at her and, when he opened his mouth, he spoke instead to the woman seated across him.

“What you said about Innistrad, about when I die…”

“You remember that conversation?” Liliana saw herself ask.

“Hard to forget a conversation like that,” Jace said. “You don’t meddle in sentiment unless you mean it.”

Jace was showing her a memory, Liliana realized—the one her other self had rubbed in her face. She remembered having the same conversation with her Jace months ago and she wondered how many years ago it had been for these two.

“So… did you mean it?” Jace asked.

"What?”

"Will you be sad when I die?" he asked cautiously.

Liliana watched herself look him in the eye, lids heavy, and sigh.

“I don’t care for people, Jace. I don’t need them. I was ready to leave Innistrad. I’d done everything I’d gone there to do…” she paused, measuring her words. “…but the next thing I knew, I was halfway to Thraben, calling all the dead I could out of every graf and gutter I could reach, hoping there would be enough.”

She looked away. “I suppose that should tell you everything you need to know.”

The spectator frowned. That was not how she remembered that conversation going.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Jace said, his spirits visibly lifted.

The Liliana in the memory said nothing and stared into the fire.

“It’s not so bad, you know…” Jace offered. “…caring about people.”

Silence.

Jace turned to look at the fire. In the light, the spectator could make out the smile creeping into the corners of his face.

This Jace was no older than the one she’d been looking for when she’d gotten stranded on the useless island. Seeing him again tugged at a part of her that she refused to acknowledge.

Flashes of her own memory of the night’s events began to return. She had briefly considered telling him the truth. It hadn’t been the first time she’d entertained the notion but it had still surprised her—enough that she’d pushed the thought out of her mind. She decided there was nothing to be gained from unnecessary complications.

It was strange to see the other possibility play out and a little uncomfortable to watch herself, even this version of herself, being so honest.

“This is as good as it’s ever going to get with me, you know,” her other self finally said, “with us.”

“This isn’t so bad,” Jace said with a small smile.

The Liliana across him looked almost looked vulnerable for a moment before shifting back to bored haughtiness.

“ _This_ isn’t anything,” she replied coolly.

Jace deflated. “Still, though,” he said in a quiet voice.

Then he frowned. “Why do you do that?”

“What?” she asked innocently.

“ _That.”_ He looked at her with annoyance. _“_ The games. The deceit. You tell me that you care and then you push me away. It’s like you somehow enjoy the ambiguity. I mean, you compared me to a dog, Liliana, a _dog_. But who raises an army for a _dog?”_

“After all this time, you still don’t know me very well, do you?” she said, mocking him with a faint smile.

“No,” Jace fumed. “I guess I don’t. I don’t know anything about you other than what you want me to see. I don’t know when you’re being sincere because I don’t even think I know what that looks like on you. I know you _want_ something, though; that much is obvious. I just, for the life of me, can’t ever seem to figure out what exactly that is.”

Liliana’s eyes flashed with anger. “What I _want_?” she spat back. “I _want_ to be free of my demons. I _want_ to be free of the Veil. And I _want_ to not need help doing that… But I know that’s not realistic because I _know_ I need help. I _don’t_ think I can do this on my own. Is that what you wanted to hear, Jace? Is that _sincere_ enough for you?”

Jace’s frown softened a little. “Well, maybe if you’d asked…”

Liliana was livid. “Maybe if I’d _asked_?! Oh, hello there, I need help with a possessed veil that I got stuck with after I used it to kill the demons I sold my soul to. Actually, just two of the demons. I still need to get rid of two more. So, if you could drop everything and help me with that too, that’d be _great_. Does that work better for you? Does that sound like something that you’d like to do for me?” Her voice dripped with derision.

“It does, actually.”

She looked at him like he’d just said pigs could fly, and scoffed. “Go home, Jace. You’re tired.”

“Lili—"

“Jace, _I’m_ tired. Just—” She sighed, frustrated. “Go home, alright? We’ve had a long day. Just go home and, in the morning, we’ll pretend we never had this conversation.” She rose smoothly from her seat and, before he could respond, walked to the bedroom.

Jace’s face fell as he watched her disappear through the doorway.

The door swung behind her and he stared at it, crestfallen, and sighed. Then he sank back, miserably, into his chair.

Liliana watched the memory thoughtfully, comparing the scene she’d just witnessed to what she actually remembered happening. There had been an awful lot of honesty in what the other Liliana had said and, now, seeing where it had led, she wasn’t sure how this had been a better choice. That Liliana had gained nothing whereas she’d at least ended her night feeling satisfied.

A hinge creaked and Jace looked up. The spectator arched an eyebrow at the sound.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Jace looked at it, waiting for it to close.

It didn’t.

He got up carefully and continued to stare at it, unsure of himself. Then he began to move toward it slowly, hesitantly.

He put a gloved hand on the door and, with great trepidation, gave it a gentle push.

It swung open.

The woman inside stood in the middle of the room, facing the doorway. When she saw Jace at the door, she didn’t seem angry. She didn’t even look surprised. She just looked…relieved.

Jace moved toward her, cautiously at first, and then with less and less trepidation as her expression grew more expectant, more hopeful.

And suddenly their lips were together. His hands found her waist and hers cupped his face and they held each other with intense, urgent passion.

Watching them was a little more painful than Liliana expected. She tried to remind herself that she was watching someone else’s life unfold—not her own, not really, anyway—but it didn’t help. She watched them sink into each other, understanding the lonely, desperate, wordless search for _something_ in each other’s arms.

She’d been there before.

She sometimes felt bad about using him, for toying with his emotions to placate hers. But more often, she only felt bad that she didn’t—at least not as much as she felt she probably ought to.

Not that it mattered, she told herself. She had enough on her plate without… whatever _that_ was, to think about.

She forced herself to turn away.

The bedroom dimmed as she did and when she looked back, the night had aged outside the window. The clothes on the floor cast long shadows in the light of the dying fire.

They were lying on the bed, his arm around her, her back to him.

“Lili,” Jace whispered in the darkness with a voice thick with exhaustion.

The woman in front of him didn’t turn or respond.

“Lili, I know you’re awake,” he insisted. Even in the dim light of the memory, Liliana could make out the look on his face.

“Did you want me to go?” he asked.

This was it, the spectator realized, remembering the night she’d spent with her Jace. This was the point where she’d shut him out. Jace had asked her that exact same question and she’d pretended to be asleep. The next morning, she’d acted surprised that he was still there and he’d left looking hurt.

The Liliana in the memory took a deep breath.

“No,” she whispered. She still hadn’t turned to face him. She frowned into the middle distance, her face hinting at an internal struggle.

Jace kissed her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Liliana said nothing for a moment and then spoke plainly.

“It’s not going to make me better.”

“What?” Jace asked.

“Killing my demons. It won’t make me a better person. It’s not going to change anything.”

“I should hope not,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She looked at him over her shoulder.

“I’m serious. I know you said you want to help me but if you’re doing it because you think it might change something afterwards…” she trailed off and turned her head back away from him.

“Lili, no—”

Her eyes hardened and she cut him off.

“I’m not sure how you think I feel about you. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure myself. But I don’t like seeing you hurt. And right now, I care enough about you to be honest.”

She took another deep breath. “This is who I am, Jace—my demons, the veil, everything I’ve done. My troubles weren't forced on me. I wanted power and freedom. I still do. And I don’t think killing my demons is going to change that.”

“Liliana—”

She turned to look at him somberly. “This is as good as I get, Jace. I need to know that you know that.”

“Lili.” he paused, continuing only when she didn’t interrupt him. “I know. I understand…" He found her hand in the darkness and held it. “…but I don’t care.”

The spectator scoffed. This version of Jace was an even bigger fool than hers was.

“I care about you. I think you know that,” Jace continued. “My help isn’t conditional and you shouldn’t worry about taking advantage of it.”

He held her gaze in the fading light. “If you want my help, you don’t have to steer me. You only have to ask.”

Her brow furrowed and she spoke slowly, unsure of herself. “I don’t know if I believe that.”

Jace opened his mouth to answer then thought better of it. He shook his head, kissed her forehead, and gave her half a smile.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to ask and see for yourself.”

The fire crackled and the memory blurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memory in this chapter is meant to be the same one Vraska sees in the ["The Flood"](https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/flood-2018-01-10) chapter in the canon story. In fact, the idea for how I was going to tie everything together for this story came from that chapter.
> 
> I think that half the reason Jaciana is so toxic is because Jace needs to grow a bit more spine. You might see a little of that here and you'll see a little more as the story progresses. The other half of the reason is that Liliana needs to grow a little bit more heart, which I tried to show in this chapter. Canon Lili does a good job of keeping that all under wraps but I'd like to think that maybe, after a long, tiring day of raising a zombie army, using it against an Eldrazi Titan, and almost dying in the process, she might let her guard down enough to let it seep through _just a little_.
> 
> Also, my short story ["Pancakes"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14668397) is supposed to be about the Jace's house in the Hall of the Living Guildpact the next morning. I kept it separate because the POV I wanted to use (Chandra's) didn't fit within the narrative of this story.


	4. Party of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liliana is shown more memories that are reminiscent of her own. A lot of things are not quite as she remembers them, including certain events on Kaladesh.

Liliana watched herself sitting alone at a patio table, a jug and a tray of goblets for company.

A massive Kaladeshian penthouse loomed behind her. The sound of a party emanated from inside—Yahenni’s Penultimate, she realized. She was watching a memory from right after they'd helped the Renegades take Ghirapur.

The event was familiar, even if the scene was not.

The air shimmered and Jace planeswalked in, an inscrutable look on his face. Liliana watched herself pretend to ignore him as he approached.

“We need to talk,” Jace said.

“Alright, Jace, let’s talk." There was ice in her voice and in her glare. “The entire Gatewatch thought it best to go to Amonkhet immediately—you didn’t. In fact, you changed their minds. Why?”

That didn’t quite add up either. Liliana distinctly remembered that Jace and the entire Gatewatch (save for Ajani) had voted to find Bolas on Amonkhet immediately. It had been one of many poor decisions they’d made but it stood out in that, for once, the five of them had actually agreed on something.

Jace frowned. “Because we know nothing about the plane. You said as much yourself. You’re the only one who’s been there and you didn’t stay long enough to really learn much about the place. We should gather information and give Ajani time to gather allies. We need to make preparations.”

“Tezzeret got _away_ ,” she snapped. “I guarantee you he’s already told Bolas by now. You don’t think he’ll be making preparations of his own?”

“I do… but, all the more reason for a plan.” Jace was avoiding her eyes. “We—the Gatewatch—we jump in, unprepared, and lean on chance and on powers that we always seem to be overestimating. The more we do this, the more I feel like we’ve been getting lucky… What happens when that’s not enough?”

The spectator’s jaw tightened. Jace was scared, just like Ajani had been. He was right, of course. She knew firsthand how the excursion into Amonkhet would go. The Liliana she was watching clearly didn’t.

The seated Liliana scoffed. “So much for protecting the multiverse.”

Jace looked pained but said nothing for a moment. Then he frowned and looked at her. “Why are you in such a hurry anyway?”

“Because we know where Bolas is!” she said, incredulous.

“And you know better than I do that he won’t run just because we’ve found him. He won’t see us as important, much less as a threat. Lili—why are you really in a hurry?”

Liliana saw herself look taken aback for a moment before she caught herself.

She glared at Jace. He stared back.

A smiling Gideon peeked out of the building. He took a few steps in their direction before he sensed the tension, thought better of it, and walked back inside.

“Razaketh,” Liliana finally relented.

 Jace's eyes narrowed. “One of your damned _demons_?” he hissed.

“Yes,” Liliana replied. “He’s on Amonkhet.”

“And _that’s_ why you were so in favor of rushing in without a plan?" said Jace. “You could have told us! We’d have been willing to help you!”

"I _did_ tell you,” she shot back. "You know about my demons. _You're_ willing to fight them… but do you really think Gideon would be if I told you all? Or Nissa?"

"I don't know," snapped Jace. "But they’re not bad people. And I would have backed you up. But now—” he exhaled loudly. “Look, I want to help you, Liliana. I meant that when I said it. But I can’t really do that effectively if we don’t talk to each other.”

“We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

Jace sighed. “Lili, all I’m saying is, we’re on the same side. _Yours._ So, I can grope around blindly in the dark until I stumble across whatever you want me to find, or you can talk to me—actually talk to me—and save us both the trouble.”

It was a valid point and the spectator knew even she would have difficulty arguing against it. It would gnaw at her, though, as she was sure it did the Liliana she was watching. It was already showing—the haughty look on the other Liliana’s face was thin, her spine a little too stiff. She wondered what her other self would decide.

Her answer came in a single word.

“Fine.”

Liliana took a sip from a dark glass and Jace looked at her, waiting for the rest of what she was going to say.

She put her glass down and looked back at him.

“What?” she asked.

“That’s it?” said Jace, with a dubious expression on his face.

“I would think so,” the death mage said with a bored voice. “Seeing as how I’ve just agreed with you… or did you want a different answer?”

“No, I just...” he trailed off, frowning his uncertainty, then he narrowed his eyes, still a little thrown off. “I guess I was expecting more of a fight.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Really, Jace. Do you think me _that_ unreasonable?” Her tone stayed serious but the corner of her mouth was curled into a teasing smile.

Jace scowled at her.

She laughed and gestured to one of the empty seats. “Join me?”

Jace didn’t move.

“Don’t be such a child,” Liliana teased. “I said I was sorry.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jace said, but he sat down anyway.

Liliana looked amused as she poured a drink and slid it over to him. She raised her own and tilted it in his direction. “Peace?”

Jace took the glass begrudgingly, looked at Liliana, then touched his glass to hers. “Peace.”

They both drank deeply.

Suddenly Jace gagged, made a face, and turned away, coughing out clear liquid.

“ _That’s not wine_!” he sputtered, tears welling in his eyes as he coughed.

“Moonshine of some sort,” Liliana said with a lazy smile. “Stole it from the cellars. I wanted something a little stronger.”

Jace swore in between coughs and Liliana laughed.

She waited with an amused look on her face as he coughed a few more times then turned back toward her.

“It’s actually not bad,” Jace admitted, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve and pushing his glass towards her. “Could I have a little more?”

She tipped the pitcher into his glass and he sipped it, slowly this time.

Liliana laughed lightly and shook her head. “So, now that we’re friends again, are you going to tell me your big plan?”

Jace smiled for the first time since he arrived. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about. I have a few plans, actually—fewer, now that I know why we’re going to Amonkhet—and I’ve already put the first in motion. But I could use some help with something that should help us gather more intel. It will require… _muscle.”_

“Beefslab?” Liliana asked.

“No,” Jace grinned conspiratorially. “We’ll need the kind that won’t ask questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always bothered me how the Gatewatch sort of just bungled their way into Amonkhet after the events of Aether Revolt. If you've not read ["Renewal"](https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/renewal-2017-02-01), the discussion basically goes:
> 
>  **Ajani:** Guys, don't underestimate Bolas. When I beat him, it was a fluke. Straight-up can't do it again. Lets do some prep, huh?  
>  **Gideon:** What do you guys think?  
>  **Chandra:** I'm surprised Ajani won because Bolas is so powerful. But screw that, he messed with the wrong woman('s home).  
>  **Liliana:** Bolas is powerful enough to create planes but we got this. The pussy is just being a pussy.  
>  **Jace:** I trust Ajani. Bolas is stronger and smarter than we are. Also, we have zero intel. But we have the element of _surprise_.  
>  **Nissa:** I dunno, you guys. But I'm cool if everyone else is.  
>  **Gideon:** s'do this.
> 
> Chandra chose to fight because she doesn't think things through. Liliana was manipulating them into going to Amonkhet because she knew Razaketh was there. But Jace is supposed to be the logical mastermind genius whose backup plans have backup plans, and I would have thought that he, of everyone in the Gatewatch, would have at least advocated doing _some_ kind of prep. If he had, Gideon would have seen the merit and the lack of unanimous confidence would probably have gotten Nissa to agree too.


	5. An Old Stomping Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jace and Liliana convince a few Ravnican businessmen to help them.

A melting pot of Ravnican society stood around a long hardwood table—an obese Azorius official and his arrester bodyguard eyed the room with disdain, a group of Orzhov priests whispered among themselves in hushed tones, and a vedalken magewright in Izzet colors peered over his companion’s shoulder thoughtfully as she scribbled furiously into a notebook. Just over half a dozen others from nearly every Guild in the city milled around the memory. Liliana even noted two scruffy-looking Guildless standing quietly in a corner.

Jace entered the room and the din of conversation ceased. All eyes looked to the mind mage, who didn’t break stride as he crossed the room.

“Please be seated.”

He had called the meeting, apparently.

There were a few murmurs as people moved to take their seats. From what Liliana could hear, such a meeting was unprecedented. Nobody seemed to know why they had been summoned to meet with the Guildpact himself.

Jace sat down at the head of the table. He let the murmurs simmer down, palms resting on the table, before he spoke.

“Thank you for coming.”

Several of the attendees shifted uneasily in their seats.

 “Tezzeret is gone,” Jace stated simply.

More uncomfortable looks. The name clearly meant something to these people.

“We know this, Guildpact,” a silver-haired elf intoned. His lips hadn’t moved. The sound came from what appeared to be gills in his throat—a Simic biomancer. “It has been nearly four years since we last heard from our chairman.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are we here?”

The room murmured in cautious agreement.

“You’re here because your commitment has kept this cell of the Infinite Consortium alive,” Jace replied, addressing the table. “All without much of the original network, without a directive, and without a leader.”

The room was quiet. There was no law against belonging to a mercantile association. There was no need to incriminate themselves.

 “It’s admirable, I’ll admit,” Jace continued. “But most of you are new faces. You might not remember when the Consortium was more than a few shady back-alley deals.”

The Simic elf and a few of the older attendees nodded.

“We can be again,” Jace continued, his choice of pronoun furrowing more than one brow. “But before we can do that, we all need to be on the same page. I’m sure some of you have begun to hear rumors, so I’ve asked you all here before we move forward, to clear up any confusion.”

He paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention.

“I’m in charge now.”

There was a short pause followed by an immediate uproar.

The Orzhov priests stood wordlessly and walked towards the door at the other end of the room as the room erupted into a cacophony. The Azorius senator’s face knotted as he tried to keep it impassive. His bodyguard’s eyes darted around the room, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword as the room voiced its confusion, its outrage, and, in some cases, disdain. Several attendees were on their feet and everyone was demanding answers.

Liliana looked at the man seated at the head of the table. The Jace she knew hated grooming for public appearances and often used illusion as a substitute. This one hadn’t bothered, it seemed. His hair was uncombed and dark circles rimmed his eyes. It made him look older—more severe—as he sat patiently through the chaos.

A scream from behind silenced the room and they all turned to the door to see two Orzhov priests on the floor, scrabbling away backwards from a hulking ogre. A broken spear jutted out of the monster’s eye. Several soldiers in Boros red and white lurched in behind it. They all carried bloodied weapons and bore fresh, fatal wounds. The other two Orzhov priests were conspicuously missing.

Liliana watched herself enter after the small army and bow exaggeratedly. The soldiers formed a phalanx in front of her as she did, between the exit and the terrified people. Chairs scraped the floor as several attendees slid themselves further up the table and away from the door.

“As I was saying,” Jace said, “you are all here because you work for my Consortium. Unlike the previous management, I tend to care about the sort of people I get into business with. It’s not a question of competence; you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good at your jobs. Your loyalty, honesty, and discretion on the other hand…”

He trailed off and eyed the room to make sure the message was getting across. People looked around anxiously.

“Everyone in this room is going to open their mind to me,” Jace continued in a matter-of-factual tone that only served to underscored how it wasn’t a request. “And I will decide who among you will stay on with the Consortium and who among you will not.”

“I will do no such thing,” one of the Orzhov priests sneered, with as much pride as he could muster after his ignominious return to the room.

The ogre reached over the soldiers’ heads, picked the priest up, and bit the man’s head clean off to gasps and screams of protesting shock.

The priest’s companion drew himself up and turned to look at Jace from the other end of the table. His hands trembled but his face was filled with disdain.

“So, this is your plan?” he asked haughtily. “You figure that four years is long enough for Tezzeret to be gone and hope to use this _witch_ to bully us into playing along with your little coup?”

Jace’s eyes glowed azure as he spoke, addressing the room as much as the man who had just spoken.

“I don’t need a witch to make you do _anything_ , Vadim,” Jace replied, his voice suddenly deadly. “Surely you know that by now.”

A terrified look spread across the priest’s face as he unsheathed his own dagger and held it, blade up, on the table. His eyes grew wide as he slowly, involuntarily bent at the waist, his jaw clenched as if held shut as his head approached the dagger in his hand.

The bow deepened steadily, the sound of the Vadim’s rapid breathing the only evidence of his vain struggle against his own body. The breaths grew sharp as the knife began to bury itself in between his eyes. The attendees cringed.

Liliana was impressed. She barely recognized the Jace she was watching. The Jace she knew was boyish and prone to flustering, often hiding behind illusions to project the authority he lacked. This Jace was the opposite—confident. Collected. Cruel in a way that was more… _attractive_.

She looked at the woman on the other side of the room and wondered how much she’d had to do with it. The other Liliana leaned on the shoulder of one of her undead soldiers, watching the meeting with an amused look on her face.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult.” Jace continued. “We can do this your way or you can do the smart thing, be quiet, and _sit. Down.”_

Jace punctuated the last two words by making the priest bow further onto the tip of his dagger.

The man’s eyes widened in pain and saliva frothed out of his mouth with each panicked breath.

“Blink twice if you’re done wasting my time.”

Vadim blinked furiously for a few seconds before Jace finally let him go. He screamed and pushed himself away from the table so hard that he stumbled backwards. The knife clattered on the table.

The priest’s eyes were wide with fear and a line of blood raced down his face from the wound in his forehead.

Jace looked at him expectantly and he hastily propped up an overturned chair and sat in silence.

“Now, then.” Jace said, addressing the room once more. “This will only take a moment.”

The glow in his eyes intensified and a haze of blue magic surrounded the heads of every being at the table. Azure light poured out of the eyes and the mouths that fell open as he scoured through their minds.

The magic faded and the attendees regained their sight to find that undead legionnaires stood behind several of them.

Before anyone could react, Jace dipped his chin, the Liliana across the room smiled, and a dozen necks were slit or snapped in unison.

The attendees screamed. More than half of them lay dead, slumped backwards in their seats, forward onto the table, or lying on the floor.

 “You… you said we would be allowed to leave!” an Izzet Magewright trembled. Her vedalken guildmate was slumped over the table beside her, his blood pooling under him.

 “I said no such thing.” Jace replied. “But don’t worry, Ziryan. If I was going to kill you, you’d be lying with the rest of them.”

 “You’re supposed to be the Guildpact!” she cried incredulously. Several others murmured in fearful agreement.

“And I am.”

Jace gestured to one of the bodies. “This one was stealing from us. He even set fire to an entire Golgari housing block to cover his tracks.”

He frowned at the corpse sitting across from it, a Rakdos club-owner. “That one ate children,” he said with distaste.

He motioned to a bejeweled man on the floor. “Supplied the children.” Another one. “That one belongs to House Dimir. He kills quietmen for sport.” Another one. “Murderer again… do I need to go on?”

“And what did Zzal-zi do?!” she demanded, motioning to her dead companion. The vedalken’s eyes lay open and unseeing.

“That one was _planning_ on killing you. Something about your designs for a manabond distiller?”

The magewright stood in shocked silence then she looked down at the vedalken’s body in disgust.

Jace smiled. “The new Consortium looks after its own.”

She nodded her understanding and there was a collective murmur of assent. The Consortium was a machine of greed. Sentiment that benefitted them was something they could all appreciate.

“I will be in touch in the coming days with instructions. Until then, business as usual. Thank you all. The meeting is adjourned.”

The undead phalanx parted and one by one, the remaining members of the Ravnican cell of the Infinite Consortium left, some in silence but most after muttering some sort of acknowledgement or thanks. The other Liliana watched them go with a smirk.

The corpulent senator cleared his throat. Beads of sweat lined his forehead, as much from stress as from the physical effort of moving, the spectator guessed.

“Guildpact... In the time since Tezzeret’s… absence, concessions were made to certain guilds—for protection and for the facilitation of certain… necessities—concessions that this meeting may have… overlooked.” He eyed the headless corpse of an Orzhov priest. His hands gestured effeminately each time he paused.

 “I don’t believe the Orzhov will take kindly to our… downsizing.” He continued cautiously. “Given this, we may find it... difficult to operate without the Syndicate’s backing.”

“The Obdezat has been informed. They will continue to receive their cut.” Jace replied.

The senator paused. If he had doubts, he did not express them. Instead he bowed slightly and smiled—a grotesque, crooked thing.

“Your thoroughness does you credit, Guildpact. I hope that same thoroughness has erased any doubts with regards to our reliability…” he looked around the room, visibly pleased that every other guild had had members culled—some more than others.

Only a few attendees lingered, including Vadim the Orzhov Priest. The look on his face was one of surprised smugness. He hadn’t expected to survive.

“…both as individual members of this Consortium and as representatives of the Azorius Senate.”

Jace nodded curtly in response and the man waddled off, his bodyguard in tow. Their pace quickened significantly as they passed the undead guards.

The spectator scoffed and rolled her eyes. Politicians. Panderers and cowards.

“That went well,” Jace said, leaning back in his chair, exhausted, after the last attendee saw himself out.

“Indeed,” Liliana replied, as she turned the chin of a dead merchant who was slumped backwards in his chair. “I didn’t even realize this was the Consortium. Not a lot of familiar faces.”

“They kept the name but it’s more of a local syndicate nowadays, really. Mostly information trade and smuggling.” Jace explained. “Most of the original Consortium scattered shortly after we got rid of Tezzeret. A bit of a waste, really.”

The spectator smiled as she remembered a grey-haired pyromancer she’d taken particular pleasure in murdering all those years ago.

“A shame,” Liliana agreed, still holding the merchant’s chin. Her eyes glowed briefly and the dead man’s opened. She smiled, pleased, and released him. The man staggered to his feet and made his way toward Jace, who looked at the zombie with distaste.

Liliana watched herself move around the room, dragging lithe fingers across dead shoulders and blood-spattered cheeks, gesturing to the lifeless bodies with graceful, exaggerated motions. One by one, the dead reanimated and lumbered to their feet.

“Still,” she continued, as the newly undead shambled into a loose line in front of Jace. “it’s fun, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

Her eyes gleamed. “Bending them to your will.”

“It’s _exhausting_.” Jace said, as he waved a hand over the merchant. The gash across the dead man’s neck vanished, the blood on his clothes disappeared, and his eyes unglazed as the glamour took effect. The merchant turned and walked out of the room—a little more slowly than he might have in life but otherwise unremarkable and very much alive-looking.

“Where did you find these ones, anyway?” Jace asked, as one of Liliana’s undead guards stepped up. The soldier’s rough features were untouched and the corpse seemed unblemished, except that the breastplate it wore was bloodied and caved into its torso. Jace wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Aftermath of a Gruul riot,” Liliana explained with a wicked smile.

Jace snorted and cast another glamour. The breastplate appeared good as new.

The man ambled off and the spectator understood. Nobody would think the man dead until the glamour had worn off, at which point he’d have wandered far away enough and be seen by enough witnesses that nobody would possibly connect him to any of the dozen other corpses that would inevitably turn up around the city. Instead of a mass-murder that would scream conspiracy, the Legion would simply have a dozen more seemingly random murder cases to solve.

Jace groaned as a realization dawned on him. “A _dozen_ murders. This is going to be _so much paperwork_ in the morning.”

Liliana watched herself shake her head and tut through pouted lips. “Poor baby.”

Jace scowled at her. Adorable. There was the Jace she knew.

Jace cast several more glamours until the last zombie, the Simic biomancer who had spoken earlier, dragged itself in front of him. Its head had been turned backwards so forcefully that it had nearly been ripped from its shoulders.

Jace looked at it with revulsion then turned to Liliana. “A bit excessive, don’t you think?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “And the theatrics earlier weren’t?”

“I would have thought you’d enjoy the opportunity to make a dramatic entrance.”

She laughed. “I meant your little puppet show. Isn’t there a law against scarring a man just because he disagrees with your management style?”

“That wasn’t why I did it,” Jace said quietly.

“Why, then? Because when the Guildpact decrees that people be seated, _all must obey?”_

He said nothing and began casting another glamour.

“Is that it?” she laughed.

“He called you a _witch,_ Lili,” Jace said, a little angrily. The glamour he was working faded as he lost his concentration.

Liliana looked taken aback, then she smiled at him patronizingly. “I _am_ a witch, dear.”

Jace made an annoyed noise and began casting the spell again.

“Look at you, standing up for me even after all these years.”

Liliana was sure she’d meant it sarcastically.

Jace ignored her and finished weaving the glamour.

 “I need coffee,” Jace said, pulling himself to his feet. The elf was marching off, its head forward-facing once again. “And let’s grab something to eat; I’m starving.”

“First a show and now dinner? My, my, you do spoil me,”

Jace rolled his eyes then smiled.

“Only the best for you.”

Liliana laughed and they walked out of the room arm in arm.


	6. A Night Off

When the memory shifted, Liliana found herself in Milena’s, a ludicrously fancy restaurant in Ravnica’s Second District, watching herself and Jace at a booth. They were laughing and at ease.

 _Such a far cry from the last time_ , Liliana thought, remembering her most recent visit to the upscale restaurant. She’d come to manipulate Jace into helping her. The Beefslab had interrupted them and Jace had chosen to help Gideon instead because, in Jace’s words, “he asked.”

It had stung—the implication, the truth in it—and, in her pride, Liliana had walked away. She didn’t enjoy appearing weak.

Sometimes, though, she found herself wondering if it was worth the trouble.

She approached the booth and realized that its occupants were drunk. The other Liliana’s head was on Jace’s shoulder, laughing as they watched a couple of miniature goblins waltz clumsily across the table. Jace was twirling his finger above the illusory dancers, directing their movements as he slurred the words to a song.

“You call that dancing?” she teased, as one of the goblins tripped and bundled into the other.

He let his hand fall back onto his lap and the illusions disappeared.

“Not my fault,” he complained drunkenly. “I don’t… I don’t know how to dance.”

“Liar,” she slurred, prodding a finger into his chest. “Or have you forgotten that first night?”

Jace made a drunken sound that the spectator realized was a laugh. “Eshton’s Tavern in Lurias. I remember… I stole the moves from the man dancing behind you. Borrowed them straight out—” he hiccuped. “—of his mind.”

Liliana didn’t seem to notice the answer. She stared blankly into space, eyes half closed, leaning on him.

The silence made the spectator uncomfortable, like an unseen third wheel on a date. “Cute,” she said aloud, with as much sarcastic nonchalance as she could muster.

The woman lifted her head off of Jace’s shoulder so abruptly that for a second, Liliana thought her other self had heard her.

She hadn’t of course, and the inebriated Liliana turned to look at Jace with a drunken grin on her face.

“Come.”

She began picking up bottles, shaking them to figure out if there was still wine in any of them. A good amount of liquid sloshed inside the fourth bottle. 

The grin widened and she got out of the booth, wobbling slightly as she stood.

“Let’s go.”

Jace mumbled something about a bill.

“Come!” Liliana insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him up and out of the booth.

“They know us here!” Jace tried to protest.

“So they know we’ll come back,” she answered, as she led him out the back door.

The room began to fade to black and the spectating Liliana stood alone beside the booth, waiting for the scene to change.

It didn’t, and the memory began to recede until all that remained was the back door through which she’d watched them leave.

A frown crinkled her brow. She had a fair idea of where those two were going and she’d been there enough herself to not need to see it.

The door sat patiently.

“This had better not be what I think it is,” Liliana said to the darkness around her as she walked toward the door. She was certain Jace had heard her, wherever he was.

Liliana wasn’t surprised when opening the door didn’t lead her to the alley behind Milena’s. But instead of a memory in another bedroom like she expected, she instead found herself on a terraced garden overlooking the waters of the Seventh, a full five districts away. The towers of New Prahv shone across the water, illuminated by Izzet lamps and the faint glow of the hieromantic wards that protected the Azorius seat of power.

The other Liliana was standing at the water’s edge looking at the surface intently while Jace sat on a terrace, holding the bottle of wine they’d brought with them from the restaurant.

“What are we doing here?” Jace asked, still a little drunk.

Liliana raised a finger and shushed him, still looking into the water.

“Ah!” she exclaimed. She turned and walked toward Jace, the purple glow of necromantic magic fading from her eyes.

“I needed assistance with something not too long ago,” she explained. “The what and the why are unimportant but, afterwards, I had the corpse weigh itself down and jump in just over there.”

Jace looked on, bemused, as a rotting, waterlogged zombie stepped out of the water. Liliana took the bottle of wine from Jace's hands, took a swig, then pulled him down off the terrace.

“He had a lovely singing voice; I thought I’d bring him back to help us.”

“Help us?” he asked.

She grinned at him. “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

Jace groaned. “ _Why?_ ”

Liliana put her hands in his and looked at him with eyes that were dark pools.

“Because I said so.”

Jace gave her a pained look but offered no resistance as she put his one hand on her waist and took the other in hers.

“Something slow, maestro!” she called over her shoulder at the zombie.

Then she counted “one, two, three…” and cringed when a horrible gurgling cry emanated from the singer, the dead man's soggy vocal chords straining to obey her command.

They burst out laughing.

“Allow me,” Jace said with a tipsy smile. Arcane magic began to glow in his eyes.

The air nearby shimmered and a cellist materialized on the terrace above them. The sound of its instrument followed shortly after. Then two violinists joined in, one after the other, entering the song as they were thought into existence. Finally, a violaist played himself into being, completing the illusory quartet.

Liliana raised an eyebrow at him. “Not quite what I had in mind, but alright.”

Jace waved a hand at the quartet—an unnecessary gesture, they both knew. Summoning illusions was purely a flex of the mind—and the musicians transformed. Their faces grew sallow and their skin rotted. Their clothes grew ragged and filthy.

The dead men continued playing.

“Show-off.” Liliana scoffed, but she smiled as she did and began her count again.

The spectator watched them dance. Jace really wasn’t as bad a dancer as he thought. He wasn’t good, but at least he knew how to lead without stepping on her feet.

The Liliana in his arms smiled at him encouragingly as they slowly waltzed around the garden.

Liliana couldn’t tell if the look on her other self’s face was genuine (forcing smiles came as easily to her as breathing). If it wasn't, she was doing an incredible job of faking it. There was no cruelty in the smile. No manipulation or ulterior motive, as far as the spectator could tell. It wasn’t even the half smile she’d made her Jace work for so many times in the past, like toying with a puppy desperate for her affection. If anything, it looked suspiciously like a real smile. One that spoke to emotions she’d long ago decided not to let herself feel.

Then the song ended and Liliana rested her head on Jace’s shoulder as they began to slow dance in each other’s arms. Only the ripple of the waterfront serenaded them; the illusions had only lasted as long as their song.

The spectator’s face knotted as she watched the tender moment. Liliana enjoyed dancing because it made people want her. And when she danced with a partner, it made everyone else just want her even more. She’d done it her whole life; she’d even done it to Jace when they’d first met. There was just something _delicious_ about knowing she was denying someone else their happiness.

She’d never had it done to her, though.

Liliana banished her thoughts with a scowl. It wasn’t that she wanted what they had, she told herself. She just hated how carefree they looked. What a waste of time when there were still demons to kill.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by Jace crying out as he somehow ( _really_ , she thought) stepped on the hem of his own cloak, lost his footing, and fell backwards onto the grass, taking his partner with him.

Jace groaned an apology to the woman on top of him but as he raised his head, he saw that Liliana’s was buried in his chest. Her hands gripped the cloth of his cloak and her shoulders shuddered. Her breathing was shallow and erratic.

He looked concerned for a moment until he realized she wasn’t in pain; she was snickering into the leather of his breastplate, undignified, as she unsuccessfully tried to smother a laugh. He leaned his head back on the grass and laughed out loud. She joined him shortly after, unable to contain herself.

The spectator rolled her eyes.

The laughter dissipated into sighs and they lay where they fell, Liliana on top of Jace, looking at each other tenderly.

Liliana reached for a nearby flower, plucked it, and regarded it for a moment. Then she smiled and stuck it behind Jace’s ear. He made a face as she did.

“Much better," she said with a smirk.

“Do you always have to be so difficult?” he asked.

“Do you always have to act like you don’t enjoy it?” she replied, then brushed her lips against his.

Liliana didn’t know what was more infuriating: the dumbstruck look of surprise on _that_ Jace’s face or that it was exactly the same one she saw on her Jace’s every time she’d ever kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon stories like ["Catching Up"](https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/catching-2015-07-22) and ["Unkindess of Ravens"](https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/unkindness-ravens-2015-07-29) or ["The Flood"](https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/flood-2018-01-10) make me feel bad and, since this story is blatant wish fulfillment (it says so on the tin), I find it therapeutic to draw on those stories to address or twist them in my fic—it's like balm for specific canon-induced wounds.
> 
> Plus, if it's canon that there are an infinite number of timestreams for an infinite number of possibilities, logically it should also follow that there are an infinite number of timestreams where Jace and Liliana not only end up together, but do so exactly the way I'm writing it. 
> 
> Which means that so long as my story doesn't take place in the same timestream that the canon story does, it gets to be canon.
> 
> And that makes me feel a lot better.


End file.
